<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Nazm Nazm Sa Mere by asmaanixx</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24990769">Nazm Nazm Sa Mere</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/asmaanixx/pseuds/asmaanixx'>asmaanixx</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan (2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Misunderstandings, Song fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:07:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,091</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24990769</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/asmaanixx/pseuds/asmaanixx</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Days pass before Kartik is reminded of the song book again. He was sitting in the balcony, tuning his guitar. He hadn’t really been thinking of anything in particular, but when his fingers strummed across the chords, they brought up a long forgotten memory. A smile graced his lips as he thought back to simpler times. A time where he didn’t have to deal with the aftermaths of a heartbreak.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kartik Singh/Aman Tripathi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Nazm Nazm Sa Mere</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>1. The prompt for this piece is: Write a story about someone returning to their craft after a long hiatus.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The wind howled. Heavy rain drops hit the window panes.</p>
<p>The teal tea kettle was put on the stove, and aromatic apple cinnamon scented candles were lit around the apartment.</p>
<p>Humming to the tune of an old Mohammad Rafi song, Kartik wandered into his bedroom. He pulled aside the long, heavy curtains and watched the buildings across the street transform into blurry lights.</p>
<p>Walking over to his cupboard, he searched for a maroon pullover he used to wear. Not finding it immediately, he took all his clothes out, and examined them one by one. The thought of donating the items he no longer wears to charity, crosses his mind.</p>
<p>As he pulled out one bundle, a notebook fell to the floor with a loud slap. The whispered lyrics to the song he was humming halted on Kartik’s lips. Picking up the book with one hand, he let the clothes topple onto the bed with his other.</p>
<p>He skimmed through the pages and was awashed with surprise. It was a composition book in which he used to pen down lyrics as they came to him. At one point, he had thought about releasing his own song one day, but given how many years went by with him not even thinking about the craft, he figured it was just a phase. A hobby he used to partake in from time to time.</p>
<p>The kettle whistled, beckoning Kartik’s attention back to the kitchen. He kept the book on the counter, and opened up the jar containing the mulled wine herbal tea blend. Scooping out some of the blend with the tea infuser, he placed it in his favorite mug, and poured some of the hot water over it. While he waited for the tea to steep, he returned his attention to the old book.</p>
<p>He chuckled over how cheesy some of the lyrics were, while for others he couldn’t make any sense of it anymore. There were a few more verses that were good, but he couldn’t remember what melody he had initially aligned with them.</p>
<p>Taking the infuser out, he took a small sip of his tea, and was pleased with the taste. Pulling out his phone, he opened up the Spotify app, and played the same song he had been humming to previously. As Mohammad Rafi’s voice rang through the home, Kartik took a second to bask in the serene moment.</p>
<p><em> Aaj mausam bada beimaan hai bada<br/>
</em> <em>Beimaan hai, aaj mausam<br/>
</em> <em>Aane vaala koi toofan hai koi<br/>
Toofan hai, aaj mausam </em></p>
<p>Opening his eyes, he flipped to the last entry he had made in the song book. His heart skipped a beat. The scrawl of his handwriting screamed of a past he had tried so hard to move on from. Shaky fingers ran over the letters. The faint echoes of him singing the verse for the very first time came to replace Mohammad Rafi’s present one.</p>
<p><em> Mere dil ke lifaafe mein<br/>
</em> <em>Tera khat hai jaaniya<br/>
</em> <em>O tera khat hai jaaniya<br/>
Nacheez ne kaise paa li<br/>
Qismat yeh janiya ve </em></p>
<p>There was an indescribable brightness to the man who came up with this song. Even though he had gone through his own share of troubles, he had still carried a heart full of hope. A hope which was only magnified when Aman had entered his life.</p>
<p>Aman Tripathi.</p>
<p>If anyone asked whether or not Kartik has been in touch with Aman, he would tell them no, it has been years since he last spoke to him. That would be the technical answer. If he were asked for the honest answer, he would tell them he’s in contact with Aman every single day. When he’s running late for work, and has to circle back home to grab his forgotten wallet, he can feel Aman rolling his eyes at him, and knows how he will be scolded. When he’s walking the Delhi streets at night, he can feel Aman right there beside him, taking in all the sights that get forgotten by the busy crowd. He’s there when the early morning rays wake Kartik up, when the bright moonlight lulls him to sleep, and all the moments in between.</p>
<p>Closing the song book, he held it close to his chest, and breathed deeply.</p>
<p><em> O mere dil ke lifaafe mein<br/>
</em> <em>Tera khat hai jaaniya<br/>
</em> <em>Tera khat hai jaaniya<br/>
Nacheez ne kaise paa li<br/>
Jannat yeh janiya ve </em></p>
<p>The irrational part of him hoped he would be able to breathe in Aman’s scent, but all he got was an assortment of deeply spiced apple fragrances. Scents that hinted at Aman, but weren’t able to fully capture him. Even with Aman in his arms, Kartik was never quite able to pinpoint the exact smell he emanated. Sometimes when Kartik would be drinking masala chai out on the streets, the grounded elaichi would waft towards him, and he would be hit with a <em> aha! </em> moment. Other times, when he’s eating biryani and happened to bite into a clove, his mouth would explode with the lovely woodsy fragrance, and he would feel like he had hit the jackpot. It had become an odd, fun little game between them wherein Kartik would try to identify Aman’s secret scent, and Aman would just laugh in response, but never reveal the truth. Even though Kartik could have easily taken a look at the body washes, and deodorants Aman used, he preferred not to. He liked having Aman surprise him by popping up in ordinary, yet unexpected ways.</p>
<p>He still does sometimes. Not all the time, just sometimes.</p>
<p>Putting the song book away, Kartik finished the remainder of his tea. He silenced the music, extinguished all the candles, shoved the clothes to one corner of his bed, and curled himself into a fetal position. He used the sound of the rain pattering against the window to lull him to sleep.</p><hr/>
<p>Days pass before Kartik is reminded of the song book again. He was sitting in the balcony, tuning his guitar. He hadn’t really been thinking of anything in particular, but when his fingers strummed across the chords, they brought up a long forgotten memory. A smile graced his lips as he thought back to simpler times. A time where he didn’t have to deal with the aftermaths of a heartbreak.</p>
<p>Grabbing his song book, he opened up to the last entry, and began playing out the song once more. </p>
<p><em> Tu nazm nazm sa mere<br/>
</em> <em>Honthon pe thehar ja<br/>
</em> <em>Tu nazm nazm sa mere<br/>
Honthon pe thehar ja </em></p>
<p>He felt oddly at peace as he sang. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was because of the words themselves, or because of the fond memories they conjured up. Like the balcony being littered with assorted plants that Kartik didn’t even know the names of, but Aman wanted to keep around because it reminded him of home. Or Aman prancing around the apartment first quietly in the early mornings, but then as the time passed, becoming increasingly loud so that Kartik will have no choice but to wake up. Their lazy weekend mornings were his favorite as they wouldn’t do anything too fantastical in nature, but yet just having Aman in his arms would make him feel as if he was the most productive person in the world.</p>
<p><em> Main khwaab khwaab sa tera<br/>
</em> <em>Aankhon mein jagun re </em></p>
<p>Kartik abruptly stops playing.</p>
<p>That was a different time, and he was a different man. Both no longer exist. It was futile for him to continue dwelling in the past. Aman had made his choice, and he, his.</p>
<p>Sighing, he took the guitar inside, put it back into the case, and tucked it away.</p><hr/>
<p>That weekend, Kartik had his friends over for a little get together. His friend, Nikhil, had finished playing a song, and was taking a bow from all the applause.</p>
<p>“Kartik, ab tumhari baari.” He said, directing everyone’s attention to him.</p>
<p>Flustered, Kartik denied.</p>
<p>“Oh come on Kartik.” Neha commented. “Tum itna acha gaate ho. Aur ab toh saalo hoge tumhara koi geet sun te hue. Please kuch toh sunao do.”</p>
<p>Kartik was going to politely decline again, but they all began to cheer his name. Finally, obliging, he took the guitar from Nikhil, and thought of what to play. Just like a few days before, his fingers moved on their own. It was as if they only knew how to play one melody. A soft smile graced his lips again, and his eyes reflected a warm love that he kept telling himself is no longer there. Kartik has a suspicion that rather than diminishing over time, it has instead hardened itself like a diamond. </p>
<p><em> Tu ishq ishq sa mera<br/>
</em> <em>Rooh mein aake bas jaa<br/>
</em> <em>Jis ore teri shehnaai<br/>
</em> <em>Uss ore main bhaagun re </em></p>
<p>When he stops, he’s met with a soft applause. Not able to see the pity in his friends’ eyes, he walked off to the balcony. When an arm came around his shoulder, Kartik turned to his right to see Nikhil.</p>
<p>“Aman ke liye likha tha na.” He spoke softly.</p>
<p>Kartik nodded.</p>
<p>“Bohot saal hogaye nayi?”</p>
<p>“Almost five years.” Kartik answered, looking at the buildings across.</p>
<p>“Kartik,” Nikhil began, but Kartik interjected.</p>
<p>“I know Nikhil. Usse bhool ne ki koshish bhi ki hai maine. Aur kuch hadh takh kamyab bhi hua hoon.”</p>
<p>“Toh phir yeh?” Nikhil asked, gesturing towards the guitar.</p>
<p>“Ek purani kitaab mili thi, jisme saare gaane likha karta tha. Ussi mein se yeh tha, aur jab meine paara, wohi saari yaadein bafaas aa gayi.” Kartik explained.</p>
<p>“Have you thought about releasing it?” Nikhil asked.</p>
<p>“Matlab?”</p>
<p>“Recording the song and then releasing it as a single. I don’t know, it could be cathartic for you. Finally, being able to let go of him or whatever.” Nikhil suggested.</p>
<p>Kartik chuckled. “Meine ghar shift kar liya, number change kar liye, Delhi ke alag hisse mein aa gaya. Aur mein abhi tak move on ni kar paya? Didn’t know I was <em> that </em>pathetic.”</p>
<p>“Hey,” Nikhil bumped his shoulder with Kartik’s. “You’re not pathetic. You were madly, and deeply in love with him. Aur aise pyaar ko bhoolana bohot mushkil hota Kartik. Aur agar tum kar paate ho, then you’ll truly be the lucky one. Varna aisa pyaar bhulana, sab ke bas ki baat ni hai.”</p>
<p>Kartik sighed. Though Nikhil’s words may be true, they didn’t really comfort him.</p>
<p>“Have you tried dating other people in the meantime?” Nikhil asked.</p>
<p>Kartik nodded. “Pehle ki thi. But I wasn’t fully in it. Jiska saath tha, koi na koi kami milti thi. Yeh Aman jaisa ni hai, woh aisa ni karta tha. Ya phir, he’s too much like him.”</p>
<p>“But they were never him.” Nikhil added, solemnly.</p>
<p>His eyes staring off into the distance, Kartik agreed. “Never.”</p>
<p>“Meine jo suggest kiya, ek baar soch le. Zindagi bhar akele toh beeta ni sakte.”</p>
<p>Kartik wanted to say that he could, but then he remembered Aman decked out in his sherwani. He shut his eyes, hoping it would lock away the deep pain his heart had been carrying for so many years. Let him take it to the grave, there’s no need for it to come out in the open.</p><hr/>
<p>Kartik had ended up taking Nikhil’s advice. Their friend, Abhay, had agreed to help him out in composing the final product. He just needed to know the material they were working with. Kartik had sent him whatever he had at the moment, but he knew the song was still severely incomplete.</p>
<p>He had spent the last three hours trying to come up with a new verse, or at least a bridge, but it was of no use.</p>
<p>Sighing out of frustration, he put the guitar away, and crawled back to his bed. He opened his Spotify app, and pressed the shuffle button. As Reshma’s voice rang through the empty room, something cracked inside of Kartik.</p>
<p><em> Bichde abhi to hum bas kal parson<br/>
</em> <em>Jiyongi main kaise iss haal mein barson </em></p>
<p><em> Maut na aayi<br/>
</em> <em>Teri yaad kyun aayi </em></p>
<p><em> Hayee<br/>
</em> <em>Lambi judaai<br/>
</em> <em>Char dino da pyar O Rabba<br/>
</em> <em>Badi lambi judaai<br/>
Lambi judaai </em></p>
<p><em> Honton pe aayi meri jaan duhaai<br/>
</em> <em>Hayee<br/>
</em> <em>Lambi judaai<br/>
</em> <em>Char dino da pyar O Rabba<br/>
Badi lambi judaai<br/>
Lambi judaai </em></p>
<p>Sitting up, he let the tears openly fall out of him. There was just something about the pain in which Reshma sang that connected to a deep part of his soul. He doesn’t understand why Aman had to get married. Why couldn’t he have been a little braver and stand up to his family for him? For their love? But it wasn’t Aman’s fault. No matter how much he denied it, he loved his family too much. Even more than Kartik.</p>
<p>Hugging his knees, Kartik cried harder.</p>
<p>The loneliness of the night had Kartik’s tears, and Reshma’s song for company.</p><hr/>
<p>It was five hours later that Kartik woke up with a jolt. Outside, a crack of thunder bursted through the quietness of the night. He rubbed his eyes, and heard Reshma still singing. Sighing, he grabbed for his phone, and finally quieted her.</p>
<p>He stared at his ceiling for a few minutes. His mind was disturbingly silent, until it conjured up a horrible thought. There once was a time when he used to think he’s the luckiest man in the world. He had genuinely believed that he had the most epic love story. Sure, the beginning of it was rough, but the middle was not so bad considering he had Aman as his partner. With him by his side, the ending would have been absolutely glorious. Kartik would have weathered through all the storms just from seeing Aman’s one smile.</p>
<p>Oh, how wrong he had been.</p>
<p>Kartik wanted to laugh at his own sorry plight, but he didn’t. He was afraid if he did, he might lose whatever was left of his sanity.</p>
<p>He plugged his phone in to charge, and grabbed his laptop instead. He surfed mindlessly for a while,  clicking on one link after another without any real cause. He just needed something, anything, to keep his mind distracted.</p>
<p>He wasn’t really sure what led him to reading up on star crossed lovers, but he figured it was fitting. </p>
<p>Romeo and Juliet. Sassui aur Punnhun. Laila Majnu. Heer Ranjha.</p>
<p>There was something so tragically beautiful about them all. Even in their separation, even in their death, they still belonged only to one another. Or was it because of their deaths, that they became forever intertwined? If they had gotten their happy endings, would people have remembered them? Who would have told the story about Romeo and Juliet ending a generational war? If it had been revealed that Sassui was a disowned princess, would they have considered her worthy enough to marry Prince Punnhun? If Majnu’s love hadn’t been considered madness, would Layla have been allowed to marry him? If Kaido hadn’t been such a dick, would Heer and Ranjha have been able to live out the rest of their lives peacefully?</p>
<p>Kartik closed his laptop and put it away. These lovers were supposedly heterosexual, and yet they faced so many obstacles in getting their happy ending. Kartik and Aman were gay. What were the chances that they would have gotten their shot?</p>
<p>He pulled at his hair. He used to believe they could. They <em> would </em>. But then by walking around the holy fire, Aman had turned all his beliefs to ash.</p>
<p>Getting out of bed, he turned on all the lights. Although the harsh brightness hurt his eyes, it was at least better than all the thoughts running through his head. Picking up his guitar, he played aimlessly. The way Reshma’s voice echoed in the song came to his mind. He remembered the way the pain had connected straight to his soul. In the same vein, he played out a tune.</p>
<p><em> Ranjhana ni mereya<br/>
</em> <em>Ranjhana ni mereya<br/>
</em> <em>Tujhko hi main chaahun </em></p>
<p>
  <em> Koshishan main kari ae<br/>
Koshishan main kari ae<br/>
Tujhko bhool na paaun </em>
</p>
<p>It was then that Kartik knew he had spoken an absolute truth.</p><hr/>
<p>It has been a few weeks since the song was released, and yet the outpouring of love continued to come through.</p>
<p>He had sent the bridge over to Abhay that same night, and they had spent the next few days working on the last few verses. The month of May went by in a blur as right after work, he would head over to Abhay’s music studio, to work on the final product. They had all agreed that it would be fitting to release the song during the month of June, in honor of Pride. He hadn’t expected it to become such a beloved song, or for it to connect with as many people as it did.</p>
<p>Nonetheless, he was happy for them.</p>
<p>He smiled as he listened to the song again. Despite the bridge, it had ended on a happy note. Even though he may not have gotten his happy ending, he didn’t see why others could hope or dream for theirs.</p>
<p><em> Haath thaam le priye<br/>
</em> <em>Karte hain waada<br/>
</em> <em>Ab se tu aarzoo<br/>
Tu hi hai iraada </em></p>
<p>From time to time, he did wonder if Aman ever got a chance to hear it. If he did, what did he think about it? Did he remember the song at all? Could he understand what Kartik was trying to tell him?</p>
<p><em> Mera naam le priye<br/>
</em> <em>Main tera rubaai<br/>
</em> <em>Tere hi toh piche piche<br/>
Barsaat aayi<br/>
Barsaat aayi </em></p>
<p>The doorbell rang.</p>
<p>Kartik paused the song. Running a hand through his hair, he opened the door.</p>
<p>It was Aman.</p>
<p>Kartik’s jaw dropped. He tried to speak, but didn’t have the words.</p>
<p>“Hi Kartik.” Aman spoke.</p>
<p>Kartik’s eyes burned with tears. He choked on a, “Hello.”</p>
<p>Should he hug him? Cry? Laugh? Kiss him?</p>
<p>He didn’t know. His mind had gone completely blank.</p>
<p>“Main andar aa sakta hoon?” Aman asked, slightly shifting in his spot.</p>
<p>Wordlessly, Kartik nodded. Stepping aside, he let Aman come through. He breathed in deeply, as Aman’s scent washed over him. This time, he laughed as hot tears fell. He still didn’t know what Aman smelled like, but he welcomed it.</p>
<p>Closing the door, he quickly wiped his tears and shoving his hands in his pockets, he smiled.</p>
<p>“I hope you don’t mind.” Aman said, awkwardly. When Kartik didn’t reply, he clarified. “Woh main achanak aa gaya. Bina tumhe kuch bataya, ya puche.” When he licked his lips, Kartik’s eyes followed, and was hit with a hard desire of wanting nothing more than to kiss him senseless. “Pata ni tha ki tum kaise react karte, but kuch bhi ho jaye, mujhe tujhse milna hi tha.”</p>
<p>Kartik doesn’t know what made him finally move, but when he did, it took him just two giant steps to finally kiss the love of his life. He doesn’t know how long they held each other for, but he does know that when they parted lips, it was far too soon. Their foreheads touching, Aman’s hands on Kartik’s wrists, them being lost in each other’s breaths - it felt like they had never been separated at all.</p>
<p>Seeing no ring on Aman’s hand made Kartik’s heart skip a beat. Immediately grabbing it, he rang his own fingers over them.</p>
<p>“Tum, tum ne, tum ne shaadi ni ki?” He managed to get out. Aman shook his head. Kartik was shocked. “Tum ne kabhi milne ki koshish ni ki?”</p>
<p>“Kaise karta? Jab mein Delhi bafaas aaya, tum toh jaa chuke the. Number badal diya, ghar se chale gaye, saare social media accounts bhi tumne deactivate kar diye the. Kaise dhoond tha mein tujhe? Jitne bhi doston ko pucha, ya toh unhe kuch pata ni tha ya kuch bata ni reh the. Kyunki mein toh villain ban gaya tha na tumhari life ka?” Aman ranted. Kartik tried to reach out to him, but he pulled back. “Kya kya vaade diye the tumne Kartik? Zindagi bhar saath do ge. Kuch bhi ho jaye lekin ek doosre ka saath ni chodenge. Ek doosre se jagrenge, ladenge, lekin hamare pyaar hamesha zyaada hoga. Buddhe hona chahte the na tum mere saath? Pehle bata dete ke tumhara buddhapa chhabis ki umar mein aata hai, toh mein apni tyaari accordingly kar leta.”</p>
<p>Kartik was at a loss for words.</p>
<p>“Kartik, meine apni puri family ko thukra diya tha. Kyunki mere liye meri family toh tum the na. Tumhare saath hi toh iss shareed mein jaan aati thi. Bohot dard hua tha Kartik, jab meine akri baar apni Mummy ko dekha. Par jaise taise kar ke meine apne aap ko sambhala. Kaha, no it’s okay. Tum jaha jaa re ho isse toh better hi hai. Wahan hai jo mujhe beintehaa pyaar karta hai. Dher saara pyaar chod ge the tum Kartik, uske liye thank you.”</p>
<p>Aman took a seat on the sofa, and cried. Kartik kneeled before him, and hung his head.</p>
<p>He held Aman’s hands, and apologized. “I’m so sorry Aman. Meine socha hi nayi tha. Main bas apne aap mein hi rahe gaya tha. Sach bolu toh jab meine godhi par dekha tha na, mera dimaag ghoom sa gaya tha. Mujhe yakeen hi ni ho ra tha ki tum shaadi kar re ho. Aur woh bhi ek <em> ladki </em> se. Kuch, kuch toot sa gaya tha mere andar. Aur jab mein tumhare bina ghar bafaas aaya, uss khaali ghar mein mujhe mere andar ke khalipan ki goonje sunaye deri thi. Nayi saha saka main. Toh jitni jaldi ho sakta tha, chala ga main.”</p>
<p>“Itni jaldi thi mujhe chod ne ki.” Aman asked, accusingly. </p>
<p>“No, baby.” Kartik cupped Aman’s face, and pleaded with him. “I never wanted to leave you.”</p>
<p>“Jhoot bol re ho. Agar meri ek baar bhi yaad aayi hoti toh milne aate mujhe.” Aman insisted, crying even more.</p>
<p>“Nayi dekh sakta tha mein tujhe kissi aur ke saath. Especially not a woman.”</p>
<p>Kartik reached out for Aman again, and this time he let himself be held.</p>
<p>Planting kisses all over Aman’s face, Kartik whispered, “I love you so damn much.”</p>
<p>“I don’t trust you.” Aman broke out.</p>
<p>“Toh phir yahan kya kar re ho?” Kartik asked softly.</p>
<p>Aman cried harder. “Tumhara gaana sun liya tha.”</p>
<p>“Itna bura tha kya?” Kartik joked.</p>
<p>Aman swatted him on the shoulder, and wiping his tears, laughed.</p>
<p>“Nayi, acha tha.” Aman confessed softly.</p>
<p>Pleased, Kartik leaned forward and kissed him gently.</p>
<p>“Do you think we can start over?” Kartik asked, not really sure where they will go from here.</p>
<p>“Pehle vaada karo ki tum apne stupid si harkatein band karo ge. Life mein itna drama bhi ni chahiye mujhe.” Aman demanded. Holding his hand, Kartik promised. Emboldened by Kartik’s words, Aman straightened his back, and asked, “Aur tum kuch bhi karne se pehle mujhse baat karoge.” Grinning, Kartik promised again. “Aur tum phir kabhi mujhe chod kar ni jaoge. <em> Kabhi </em> ni. Kyunki iss baar mein bafaas nahi aaunga. Chahiye jitni marzi gaane bana lena.”</p>
<p>“Qubool hai, qubool hai, qubool hai.” Kartik answered, unable to take his eyes off of Aman.</p>
<p>“Aur mujhe tum.” Aman said, leaning in to kiss Kartik again.</p>
<p>Kartik deepened their kiss, and was immensely pleased when Aman pulled him towards himself. After all, they had a lot of lost time to catch up on.</p><hr/>
<p><em>Tu itr itr sa mere<br/>
Saanson mein bikhar jaa<br/>
</em> <em>Main faqeer tere qurbat ka<br/>
Tujhse tu maangun re </em></p>
<p>Kartik hummed along to the song he had created. Aman had insisted on letting it play on loop. Kartik had obliged. As it is, he wasn’t paying much attention to it. His entire focus was on Aman. The man was fast asleep in his arms, and there wasn’t a more beautiful sight that Kartik had seen in his life.</p>
<p>He raked his hand across Aman’s hair, and watched him shift a little closer to him.</p>
<p><em> Tu itr itr sa mere<br/>
</em> <em>Saanson mein bikhar jaa<br/>
</em> <em>Main faqeer tere qurbat ka<br/>
</em> <em>Tujhse tu maangun re </em></p>
<p>Kartik laid down beside him.</p>
<p>He couldn’t help but think back to the night he had spent crying his heart out alongside all the star crossed lovers. He smiled, as he could no longer hear Reshma’s painful voice. It sounded so far away now. All he could hear was his voice carrying a light, and hope, that just a few weeks ago he would have never associated with himself. Yet, here he was, holding that same light, hope, and love in his arms.</p>
<p>Tangled in his lover’s arms, Kartik peacefully fell asleep.</p>
<p><em> Tu ishq ishq sa mere<br/>
</em> <em>Rooh mein aake bas jaa</em><br/>
<em>Jis aur teri shehnaai<br/>
</em> <em>Uss ore main bhaagun re </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>2. The following are all the songs that were used in this fic:</p>
<p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aSJ_jcEPOu0">Aaj Mausam Bada Beimaan Hai</a><br/><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JihNlsapeQw">Nazm Nazm Sa Mere by Ayushmann Khurrana</a> (changed the lyrics to the song to make it fit the story)<br/><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3O3Pwfhhwc0">Lambi Judaai</a></p>
<p>3. Every time Kartik plays "Nazm Nazm" he plays it out in full. I didn't show that in the story to avoid repetition.</p>
<p>4. If there are any mistakes, then please let me know.</p>
<p>5. As always, kudos/comments/criticisms are appreciated. 💜</p>
<p>6. If you'd like, you can catch me at <a href="thekarmancollection.tumblr.com">thekarmancollection</a> :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>